The first book in the Change and Cherish trilogy from the CBA bestseller and WILLA Literary Award Winner, Jane Kirkpatrick.
Young Emma Wagner chafes at the constraints of Bethel colony, an 1850s religious community in Missouri that is determined to remain untainted by the concerns of the world. A passionate and independent thinker, she resents the limitations placed on women, who are expected to serve in quiet submission. In a community where dissent of any form is discouraged, Emma finds it difficult to rein in her tongueand often doesn’t even try to do so, fueling the animosity between her and the colony’s charismatic and increasingly autocratic leader, Wilhelm Keil.
Eventually Emma and her husband, Christian, are sent along with eight other men to scout out a new location in the northwest where the Bethelites can prepare to await “the last days.” Christian believes they’ve found the ideal situation in Washington territory, but when Keil arrives with the rest of the community, he rejects Christian’s choice in favor of moving to Oregon.
Emma pushes her husband to take this opportunity to break away from the group, but her longed-for influence brings unexpected consequences. As she seeks a refuge for her wounded faith, she learns that her passionate nature can be her greatest strengthif she can harness it effectively.
About the Author
Jane Kirkpatrick is the award-winning, best-selling author of more than thirty books, including A Name of Her Own and the acclaimed Kinship and Courage series. Jane is a winner of the coveted Wrangler Award from the Western Heritage Center and National Cowboy Hall of Fame. A licensed clinical social worker as well as an inspirational retreat leader and speaker, she lives with her husband on 160 acres in eastern Oregon. Visit Jane's website at www.jkbooks.com!
Read an Excerpt
A Clearing in the Wild
Part One- The Thread of Love
Some say that love's enough to stave off suffering and loss, but I would disagree. Quietly, of course. Words of dissent aren't welcome in our colony, especially words from women. I should have learned these lessons--about dissent and love--early on before I turned eighteen.
But teachings about spirit and kinship require repetition before becoming
threads strong enough to weave into life's fabric, strong enough to
overcome the weaker strains of human nature. It was a strength I found
I'd need one day to face what love could not stave off.
But on that Christmas morning in Bethel, Missouri, 1851, celebrating
as we had for a decade or more with the festivities beginning at
4:00 a.m., a time set by our leader, love seemed enough; love was the
thread that held the pearls of present joy. It was young love, a first love,
and it warmed. Never mind that the warmth came from the fireplace
heat lifting against my crinoline, so for a moment I could pretend I wore
the wire hoop of fashion. Instead of something stylish, I wore a dress so
simple it could have been a flannel sheet, so common it might belong
to any of the other dozen girls my age whose voices I could hear rising
in the distance, the women's choir already echoing their joy within our
Bethel church. Winter snows and the drafts that plagued my parents'
loft often chilled me and my sisters. But here, on this occasion, love and
light and music and my family bound me into warmth.
Candle heat shimmered against the tiny bells of the Schellenbaum,
the symbol of allegiance my father carried in the church on such special
occasions. The musical instrument's origin was Turkish, my father told
me, and militaristic, too, a strange thing I always thought for us German
immigrants to carry forth at times of celebration. The musical
instrument reminded me of an iron weather vane on top of one of the
colony's grain barns, rising with an eagle at the peak, its talons grasping
an iron ball. Beneath, a crescent held fourteen bells, alternating large
and small, dangling over yet another black orb with a single row of bells
circling beneath it. A final ring of tiny bells hovered above the stand my
father carried this early morning. As a longtime colonist, he walked
worshipfully toward the Tannenbaum sparkling with star candles placed
there by the parade of the youngest colony girls.
My father's usual smiling face wore solemn as his heavy boots took
him forward like a funeral dirge, easing along the wide aisle that
divided men from women, fathers from daughters, and mothers from
sons even while we faced one another, men looking at women and we
gazing back. All one thousand members of the Bethel Colony attended.
The women's chorus ended, and I heard the rustle of their skirts like the
quiet turning of pages of a book as they nestled down onto the benches
with the other seated women.
Later, the band would play festive tunes, and we'd sing and dance
and give the younger children gifts of nuts and apples, and the men
might taste the distillery's nectar of whiskey or wine, though nothing to
excess, before heading home to open gifts with family.
We began the Christmas celebration assembled in the church built
of bricks we colonists made ourselves. We gathered in the dark, the tree
candles and the fire glow and our own virgin lanterns lighting up the
walnut-paneled room as we prepared to hear Father Keil--as my father
called him--preach of love, of shared blessings, of living both the
Golden and the Diamond Rule. He'd speak of loyalty to our Lord, to
one another, and ultimately to him, symbolized on this day by the carrying
of the Schellenbaum and the music of its bells across the red-tiled
As my father passed in front of me, I spied my older brother,
Jonathan, my brother who resembles me. He, too, is small and slender
with eyes like walnuts framed by thick brown eyebrows set inside a
heart-shaped face. I used to tease my brother about his chipmunk
cheeks until the day I overheard Helena Giesy say, "Emma Giesy and
her brother look like twins, though Jonathan is two years older. Such
puffed up cheeks they share," she said. Our rosy cheeks bind us.
Jonathan held his lower lip with his teeth, then raised his eyebrows,
letting his eyes move with deliberateness toward the front and the tall,
dark-haired man standing next to Father Keil. Now my heart skipped.
Jonathan lifted his chin, grinned. My face grew warm.
I never should have told him.
At least I kept the secret from the little ones, though Catherine at
fifteen would claim she was adult enough to know, but she'd have
clucked her tongue at me for even thinking in the way I did. David,
Johanna, Louisa, and William, well, they'd have blabbed and babbled
without knowing what they really said.
The bells tinkled and the band struck up notes. Later, if the
weather held, the band would move out onto the platform around the church steeple and play Hark! the Herald Angels Sing, so loudly that perhaps the ears of those in Shelbina thirteen miles south would be awakened and our colony would intrude on them, but in a glorious way. We were meant to be set apart by our commitment to the common fund,
Father Keil told us, and yet to serve. Lately, Shelbina and its railroad
threatened us. My father said Father Keil grew worried that Shelbina's
life might lure young men away. Father Keil would do his best to keep
Bethel's sons loyal, separated, even though he said our passion should be
to bring others to our fold, save others from God's planned destruction
of our world, give to those in need, especially to widows and their children.
We were to bring to the colony, through our acts of love, the
women who wore white globes called pearls around their necks, the
fine ladies who sought after jewels and gems that marked false loyalties
to luxury over faith.
Neighbors. The people of Shelbina were good neighbors, I always
thought. They bought our gloves, our wine, and our corn whiskey. But
few of us really knew them. We had no way of knowing if they'd heard
about the coming destruction or if they suffered from worries and
woes. Our religious colony cherished lives of simplicity, sharing frugal
wealth in common, all needs of colonists met, silencing desire for
unnecessary passions. Whatever cash we earned went to the common
purse. If we needed cash for some outside purchase, we went to that
same coffer. Whatever we needed from the colony's yield, we simply
walked to the storehouse to secure it. My mother said it eased all worry
about the future; I saw it as one more person to have to convince to let
loose the purse strings.
We colonists were different from those around us in Missouri; we
were an island of our own. We worked to stay unsullied by the larger
distractions of the world that Shelbina symbolized even while we
attempted to bring others into the joys of our colony's ways.
Only the strongest of us could reach outside and yet stay faithful,
Father Keil said. I smoothed my skirt and felt the ruffle.
The brass horns pierced the room, announcing Father Keil's beginning
words. Angels' trumpets. Music is the perfect way to celebrate a
glorious occasion, I've always thought. Jonathan played in the men's
band. Not me. Not girls, not young women. Our music came from our
voices raised in the choir or while beating rugs or dying wool or serving
meals to men. I couldn't carry a tune in a candlestick holder, something
else that made me different.
But separation from the women's choir or the brass instruments of
music did not keep me from the joy of this day especially.
My father set the Schellenbaum on its stand, then took his place
across from us, sliding next to my brothers, who then wiggled on down
the bench, a place they always sat. We'd been a part of this colony for as
long as I could remember. My father had been one of three scouts sent
out from Pennsylvania by our leader to find a "place of separation" in
the unknown territories, far from the larger world. I was five years old
when we moved with other German families discouraged by the changes
in George Rapp's colony at Harmony, Pennsylvania. We seceded first
to Phillipsburg, then into Indiana, then into Shelby County, Missouri,
where our leader imagined Bethel into being. It is a joyous place, Bethel,
even though my father says many will be summoned in the morning to
discuss reasons we might have to leave again.
Change never troubled me. I welcome change, newness, though I work to keep my pride in check about it. Pride is an evil thing, our leader tells us. We must not envy, must not lust, must not covet. So no one knows I've stitched a ruffle to my crinoline. It is a harmless vanity easily removed but one that warms my spirit knowing it is there, unique on this winter morning as crisp as a hot-ironed crease. I gaze without envy along the row of plain and simple wool dresses of Bethel's sisters on the benches.
Change has its richness in a colony where everything seems the
same. At seventeen, I am of marriageable age, so change sticking its head
inside my door will be patted like a welcomed dog on its happy head.
Before we left our brick home this morning, my mother cautioned
me when I noted that this might be my last Christmas as Emma Wagner.
Next year, next Christmas, I might carry a new name and enter the festivities not as a child but as a woman.
"He preaches of late, Father Keil does, that one should be devoted
to the colony, not marry so young," my mother said as we readied to
leave for the service. She combed Johanna's hair into a braid; brushed a
crumb from little Louisa's face. "He says perhaps women should marry
not at all. Tink of Saint Paul who advised, 'I say therefore to the unmarried
and widows, It is good for them if they abide even as I.' "
"But he also said it's 'better to marry than to burn,' " I challenged
as I pulled on gloves made by Bethel factory workers. I could see my
breath through the cold of our large house. I licked my fingers, then
flattened William's cowlick as he sped out the door.
"Paul says that, too," my mother continued, "but then tells, 'He
that is unmarried careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how he
may please the Lord: But he that is married careth for the things that
are of the world, how he may please his wife.'"
"Ya, a good husband should please his wife," I said. "Besides,
Father Keil married." I pulled on my woolen hood and tied the bows
beneath my chin. "His nine children might say he either burned much
or none at all."
"Ach, Emma!" my mother chastened. "How you talk. Young Father
Keil married before he came to know the Lord as he knows him now."
Her hands shooed me out the door toward the rest of the family.
"He's been a colony leader for many years, and his wife Louisa still
has diapers to change," I said, walking backward to keep chatting with
my mother. My father held a lantern so we could see to walk to the
church on the crunching snow, and he used it to signal me to turn
about, gather up my younger brothers and sisters.
"Wiser now he is, so he shares his wisdom with us, and we must listen,"
my mother finished.
"Who is wiser?" my father said as we joined him beneath the stars.
"You," my mother offered, taking his arm.
I didn't pursue the subject, but my disagreement with her and with
our leader's view gave me yet another reason to be joyful about my
unseen ruffle. After all, isn't part of wisdom thinking on one's own, doing not what everyone else does but making distinctive marks, as distinctive as...as a Turkish instrument carried by a German man.
Now we sat and listened to the bells of the Schellenbaum tinkle at
this early hour service. Surely our leader didn't think young men and
women would forgo marriage or families for the sake of the colony?
How would it grow? Would he rely on new conversions of men going
with courage into the outside world, men too strong to be lured into
the world's ways?
The tall man standing next to our leader moved to center the Schellenbaum
on its stand beside the altar. My heart pounded with anticipation.
He was my father's good friend, our leader's emissary most recently
into Kentucky and the Carolinas. His name was Christian Giesy, and it
was he I hoped to marry, though I wasn't sure if he even knew my
Christian Giesy. I prayed I'd aged enough that he might see me this
Christmas morning as a young woman and not just a snippet of thread
tethered to the weaving of my parents.
He did not look my way but instead stared off as though he saw a
glorious place somewhere far beyond this room, his eyes as shining as
the lantern light flashed against the Schellenbaum. I swallowed. Perhaps
he too believed as our leader did, that the finest way to honor God
meant remaining celibate and unmarried.
I pitched away that disappointing thought.
Our leader raised his voice, large before us. Even errant thoughts of
mine were pulled into the cymbal clang of his call to worship. His eyes
were deep pools of churning water that nearly frothed with intensity
and yet a kind of joy. We young women stopped shuffling our slippers.
Men muffled their coughs. Mothers whispered quietly to their children,
"Be silent, now." His oldest son, Willie, gazed up at his father as though
he were a saint. Only the sizzle of candle wax and the fire's roar and the
occasional tinkle of the Schellenbaum bells moved by the fire's draft
interrupted our leader's words as he drew our faces toward him, toward
the words my parents first heard in Pennsylvania, words that took us all
in and changed our very lives. Fire burned inside the brick church, but
it didn't stave off the chill. We remained awake in the cold and with his
words. When he raised his voice, a mesmerizing sound echoed words
I'd heard so often as a child from him and then from my own father,
too, who preached, though without the fervor of our leader. I didn't
need to pay attention now. But I willed myself to keep staring at him,
to now let my eyes wander onto Christian Giesy.
Excerpted from A Clearing in the Wild by Jane Kirkpatrick Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Reading Group Guide
1. How would you characterize the role of women within the Bethel colony? What changes occurred in the Willapa Valley that redefined the role of the women? Who or what brought about those changes?
2. It's said that feeling unique and being acknowledged for that uniqueness is a prerequisite for a healthy sense of self. Do you agree or disagree? Can you identify something that is unique about you? Has that gift/talent/behavior/ ever been noticed by others? Is receiving appreciation for that recognition an act of vanity? What was unique about Emma?
3. After their marriage, why didn’t Emma attempt to go with her husband on his recruiting into Kentucky or other places in the Southwest? If she had, would that have changed her desire to go west with the scouts?
4. Was Emma’s decision to travel to the west with the scouts an act of love for her husband or her own wish to be independent of the colony? Was she a scout?
5. What were some of Wilhelm Keil’s strengths as a leader? How did he hold so large a colony together for such a long time? What were his faults as a leader?
6. What did Wilhelm and Emma have in common? Did those qualities tend to help them or get in their way of what they said they wanted for themselves and their families?
7. What were some of Emma’s growing pains? Was leaving her husband while they were building that first winter her only choice? How might she have accomplished the same result with different actions?
8. What do you think the German proverb “Begin to weave / God provides the thread” means?
9. What tied the Bethel colony together? What held the Willapa scouts together? What threats worked against the success of the Willapa colony? Are there similar threats to communities of faith today? What helps them continue on?
10. Are there any parallels in our contemporary time to what Emma refers to when she says, “It was an intricate task blending isolation with protection; melding worldliness with spiritual calm”?
11. What was the Diamond Rule practiced by the Bethel colony? Is such a rule substantiated scripturally for Christians? Other world faiths? Did Wilhelm Keil demonstrate the Diamond Rule in his reaction to the scouts at Willapa?
12. Did Emma manipulate Christian to remain in Willapa? Was her interest in staying on after their harsh winter an act of love for her husband, a desire to be free of the colony, or from a new belief that she followed God’s direction for her life? Do you think Emma would have remained in Willapa without Christian if he hadn’t agreed with the possibilities of her plan?
13. Why did Christian concur with Wilhelm about the need to leave the valley? What made Christian change his mind? Are there likely to be conflicts between Emma and Christian in the years ahead, and if so, what do you think will enable them to accommodate each other in helpful ways?
14. Though we see the other women in this story through the eyes of Emma, what are Mary’s strengths? Sarah’s? Louisa’s? Emma’s mother’s? her sister Catherine’s? Do these women change throughout the story, or are they static characters acting as backdrops for Emma’s choice and change?
15. Toward the end, the author has Emma identify four spiritual pains* that she sees plaguing her husband, keeping him from seeking healing solace and from making the choice that Emma hopes he will: hopelessness, unforgiveness, separation from those who love him, and lack of meaning. What examples of Christian’s behavior does the reader have that help define these four areas of Christian’s struggle? How does Emma attempt to help him throughout their marriage?
*These four spiritual pains are described in greater detail in The American Way of Dying, Lessons in Healing Spiritual Pain by Richard Groves and Henriette Anne Klauser, published by Celestial Arts, Berkely, CA 2005.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
THE CHANGE AND CHERISH SERIES ARE NOVELS BASED ON A TRUE STORY THIS IS #1 IN THE SERIES. I ENJOYED READING THIS VERY MUCH.
This novel is one that enthralls the reader by bringing them into the life of a girl who knows of nothing but her secluded way of living in their religious colony. We see how she con's her religious leader, and he allows her to travel with her husband on his journey to find a new land in the United States in the early years. Through their journey, we watch as she develops into a woman who wants to follow God, but is driven by her heart and love for her husband. Once they locate the place to set up the new colony we go back to see the struggles that the remaining colony members have in arriving over. It is a well-written piece allowing the readers a glance at what life was like for those who first were attempting to make a life for themselves out west, and all the hardships and struggles that they endured.
Finally. This was the most boring book I have ever read. It has taken me three weeks, because it was just so blah. I was excited about the idea behind the book, but nothing happens minus two scenes. The rest of the book is about the main character deceiving others and then trying to find her way in understanding who God is and what she is really suppose to do in life. It might make a good DRAMA movie, but definitely just no life in it to make it an enthralling book. I don't think I'll pick up this author again, unless I just hear some wonderful things. Now I can go to the other 20 books checked out from the library that have been waiting patiently!
This is a story of a group of people in Bethel, Missouri in the 1850's who are seeking to live in the world, but set apart from the things of the world. In this "society" is a young lady, Emma, who has outspoken ways and often finds herself clashing with the leader of the colony. Emma soon finds and marries her mate, Christian Giesy, and all seems well. But the leader of the colony wants to send Christian West to find another area for their colony to live. Emma is not excited about her new husband leaving her for over a year, so she has a way of working her way into the group of men going West. What she doesn't bother to tell anyone is that she thinks she is pregnant. This story deals with the journey West, Emma and Christian learning how to live and love each other, and how to adjust to the new land they find themselves in. Emma continues to question the colonies tactics and beliefs as she yearns for more and sees her God as someone different than what the leaders of the colony portray him to be. This is the first book in this series and I will be reading the rest of the series to see how this all turns out.
Excellent historical novel. It has a list of characters which was very helpful and a map of the travel west. Loved the strong female lead character. The story is based on a true story. I have already bought the two sequels. This book is great snd deserves an A++++++++
I love Jane Kirkpatrick's books. A Clearing in the Wild is a great story with exceptional characters (I especially liked Emma). A tale of German pioneers searching for a new home and the many hardships they endured. Similar to Amish life, the community wants to get away from crowded Bethel, MO. and find a place where they can live their lives without others interference. Emma accompanies her scout leader husband in this long journey , she is having a hard time accepting the fact that women are to obey their husbands, raise their children, etc. She isn't in agreement with this belief. Kirkpatrick has written another wonderful novel, the plot is engaging. It really makes you appreciate the way we live today. I received a copy of this book free from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
I was a bit disappointed. The pacing was very slow and , the plot a bit dull. The settings were interesting. The migration from Missouri to the Oregon Trail in the 1850s had great potential; and the heroine was devoted to her husband and her religion, but also thought for herself. I just wasn't into the book enough with her gradual coming-of-age, it felt like pretty standard reading fare, nothing special , so I got bored real fast,and had to skim to the end. I give this one a 3 star , average read. I received a complimentary copy from the publisher for my review. I was not required to give a positive review, only my honest opinion – which I’ve done. All thoughts and opinions are my own.